


Exceptions to the Rule

by MoMoMomma



Series: Kinktober 2018 [20]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Eden's Gate Cult, Cuckolding, Dirty Talk, Humiliation, M/M, Safe Sane and Consensual, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 08:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16364693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/pseuds/MoMoMomma
Summary: Once a month, unconventionality sneaks in. Crawls under Rook’s skin, coalesces in John’s eyes until John’s holding up his phone, face bright red and buried in Rook’s neck, murmuring a quiet “I want to--should I?”





	Exceptions to the Rule

For the most part, John and Rook are just like other couples. John goes to work, helps settle custody agreements and divorces, occasionally swings by the station to visit Rook when he needs to look over a police report. Rook helps keep Hope County in line, Deputy uniform on alongside his smile as people rely on him to fix their problems. 

They go to community events and throw a few BBQ’s of their own and they just...exist. In peace and normalcy. It’s not a particularly exciting life but after John’s past and Rook’s stint in the military, the ease of everyday life is exactly what they need. 

Except…

Except.

Once a month, unconventionality sneaks in. Crawls under Rook’s skin, coalesces in John’s eyes until John’s holding up his phone, face bright red and buried in Rook’s neck, murmuring a quiet “I want to--should I?” It’s an itch they hadn’t discovered existed until John’s brothers had moved to Hope County, chasing the same bit of peace he’d found there. Joseph settling in nicely alongside Pastor Jerome, bringing the Good Word to everyone who wanted to find it. And Jacob…

Well. Jacob’s the exception.

Jacob’s the reason for the twitchy feeling Rook gets every so often, why John’s shoulders crawl up and up around his ears until they’re curling in on themselves as he whispers “please, _please_ ”. Like this is some treacherous task Rook has to undertake. Like this is hard on him.

Like it’s _distasteful_.

Because twice a month or so, more when John’s been too hard at work or Rook’s been gone more often than not on long shifts, they wind up just like this. Rook staring John down at the end of the bed, sprawled in a chair with his clothes skewed and his cheeks flushed. Legs spread too wide, like Rook’s own, and cock already hard in his palm.

Jacob sitting at his back, underneath him. The plant of his feet over the edge of the bed keeping Rook’s thighs wide, too wide, wide enough his hips will ache distantly tomorrow morning. Beard scraping against Rook’s nape and his shoulders, one hand flat on his stomach. Fingers too thick between his legs, inside him, lube slippery on Rook’s cheeks easing the way for the press inside. 

Rook breaks, for a moment, on the third finger. Glances down at the span of Jacob’s hand against his stomach, the blood hot and swollen length of his cock jutting obscenely from his hips. He can feel Jacob’s, far bigger than three fingers, against his lower back. Just as hard, just as excited by this as Rook and John are. 

That’s when he talks. It’s _always_ when he starts to talk. When Rook breaks and turns the attention onto him and not John.

“Can’t help yourself, can you?” Rough, raw, just a bit hoarse because Jacob’s _always_ a bit hoarse. “I get it. It’s sweet. After all, if that’s all you’re getting during the rest of the month, makes sense you’re so desperate for it.”

He doesn’t need to nod, Rook knows exactly what he’s talking about, but he does anyhow. Nods over his shoulder towards John, who flinches and shudders even as his hips press up into the strokes of his hand. 

“Oh my God--”

“Such a pretty little slut. How in the hell could he think he’d be enough to satisfy you?”

Part of the game. John had assured him of that, _Jacob_ had assured him of that. The brothers love each other, supportive and kind always. Except now. Except during...whatever this is.

“Guess I went for the wrong brother.” Rook murmurs, winding an arm back to grip at Jacob’s nape, tug him forwards until there’s the bite of teeth against his shoulder. 

“Damn right you did. C’mon, sweetheart. Let me show you what you’re missing.”

Rook lets himself be manhandled. It’s easy, really, Jacob’s broader and stronger than him even years out of the military like he is. Doesn’t take long before Rook’s on his hands and knees, still watching John watch them, and Jacob’s smoothing palms up his back like he’s a startled horse.

He feels like one. Trapped under a predator with too sharp teeth. It only makes him harder, makes his cock pulse between his legs as Jacob nudges at his hole with the thick, slick head of his cock. John makes a needy noise, eyes too wide, leaning forwards eagerly.

“He looks so _big_ behind you.” He says in a wrecked whisper like he can’t even scrounge up the energy to raise his voice. 

“He feels big.” Rook swallows thickly when Jacob presses forward, like it’s a treat for behaving. “Feels like he’s gonna split me open.”

“He intends to.” Jacob murmurs, before pressing inside so deeply, so quickly, it takes all the air from the room.

John’s staring, open-mouthed, white-knuckling around the base of his cock like he’s trying to hold back from coming too soon. Rook shudders, arches forwards and then back, trying to adjust as Jacob grips his hips and stays still, lets him do whatever he needs. They leave a lot of it up to Rook, letting him set the days and the pace and the everything. 

Except he drops his forehead to the bedspread, shivering, fingers claws in the covers and _that’s_ not allowed.

Jacob’s fingers wind into his hair, yanking his head back up with just enough pain it recenters him, and John’s eyes fly to his with a desperate sort of whine falling from his throat. 

“No, no, no,” Jacob shakes his head a little, not enough to hurt, enough to keep him in the moment. “You have to _look_ at him. I want you to watch him. Want him watching you. I want John to _see_ how you fall apart on my cock. How you look when you’re getting fucked like you _need_ to be fucked.”

“Oh my God,” John breathes, shaking in place, feet bracing just a bit further apart.

Jacob sets a punishing pace, he always does. Like this is all he gets and he intends to make the most of it. Rook has to fight to keep his eyes on John, half-shuttered as he writhes under Jacob’s weight. Jacob’s hand under his chin helps, keeps him steady, his other hand yanking Rook’s body back into his thrusts. 

“Rook,” John’s eyes are peeled wide, sparkling bright. “Is it--is he good? Is it good?”

_Is he better than me? Is it better than you and me?_

Rook knows what he’s asking, always knows what he wants to hear. It makes something in him break, just the same as every time before. Makes him mean, words just a touch too vicious. John likes it when he gets mean about it, it excites him.

Excites Jacob too.

“It’s so much better.” His voice is raw, dropped low, little more than a snarl. “He’s so much better. Bigger and stronger and-- _fuck_. God, Jacob, fuck me. I need it, I need--”

“Oh, I know exactly what you need.” Jacob’s fingers dig into his jaw. “John hasn’t been treating you right, huh? Too small, too _weak_. I’ll give it to you how you need it, sweetheart. Give you everything he can’t.”

“Tell me.” John’s voice shakes, trembles on every syllable. “Tell me how much--how good he is.”

_Tell me how bad I am._

“He’s so good. So fucking thick and big. Feels like he’s gonna split me open.” Jacob’s hand is the only thing keeping his head upright as Rook starts to shake, cock dripping onto the bedspread, eyes starting to roll back. “God, how could I ever think you were enough? How could I ever be fucking satisfied with you? Jacob’s just so much _better_.”

“Aren’t you a doll?” Jacob mutters, grin evident in his voice, in the words. “You gonna come for me, sweetness? Gonna come just from the feeling of my cock fucking you open?”

“Yeah, yeah, gonna--I can’t ever--not with him.”

“Course not. He’s never gonna be able to do you like I can, baby.” Jacob hauls him backward as Rook’s world starts to swirl to a focal point, right on John and the way he’s stripping his cock and shaking through every move. “Shoulda just come to me first, Rook. Should’ve let me fuck you. I would’ve _ruined_ you for him.”

“You _do_.” 

John comes with a sharp gasp, one that sounds like it was ripped from his chest. Paints a thick line across his belly, his chest, over his knuckles. Rook gets slammed back down into the bed then, Jacob mounting up, one foot on the bed now that it’s just for them. He buries his head in the sheets, claws at them, lets the fabric muffle the shouts and yelps Jacob tears from his throat.

He comes with a bitten off groan, body sagging under Jacob’s, and is glad when Jacob slams home a few more times, rough and off rhythm, stilling with a groan of his own. He moves, pulls out gently, with one hand braced on Rook’s lower back. Rook lets himself collapse on his side, feeling sticky and wet as Jacob’s come leaks out.

Jacob never wears a condom, always fills Rook up inside, and on nights when it’s bad, when John shakes through it and can’t get words out, he likes to prop Rook’s legs up and watch his brother’s come spill out. 

Tonight, though, John rushes forward on shaky legs, cock barely tucked back inside his underwear. He climbs onto the bed, collapses next to Rook, covers his face in frantic kisses in between tiny little murmurs of “thank you” and “love you so much.” Rook kisses back when he can, mostly content to relax in the aftermath, in all the aches setting in now that euphoria is fading.

He’s distantly aware of Jacob moving around, getting dressed again, in sleep clothes as opposed to the jeans and jacket he’d worn over. He hadn’t stayed the first few times, trying to find his place and deciding it wasn’t there once it was all said and done. It had taken John and him going out to a bar, tucking into a corner and deciding that his place was there on those nights for Jacob to be alright with staying.

He’s always gone by the time Rook wakes up the next morning, usually leaving a fresh pot of coffee and a note of some sort reminding Rook to take it easy. 

For now, though, Rook gets manhandled under the covers, John curving in front of him, tucked in close, hands still cupping his face and adoration in his eyes. Jacob slides in behind, curves an arm over his waist but doesn’t cuddle up. More there in spirit than in body, letting John and Rook re-center themselves.

“You should stay for breakfast.” Rook slurs a bit, sleep already setting in, sees John’s eyes light up as he lifts his head, looks over Rook’s shoulder.

“Yes, Jacob. You should stay.”

There’s a double meaning to his words, one that Jacob must read if his amused little snort is any indication. But Rook’s too exhausted to figure it out right now. He snuggles down into the pillow, relishes in the way his body has gone completely limp after a world-rocking good fuck, and sleeps.

The brothers will figure something out. And Rook will just let himself be taken along for the ride.

**Author's Note:**

> Wanna see what's coming for the rest of Kinktober? Check out [this post](http://momomomma2.tumblr.com/post/178633371556/happy-kinktober) on my Tumblr!


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